


he will sing to those who'll hear

by thespianok



Series: all things by a law divine [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Comeplay, Dirty Talk, Feminization, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Sex, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Top Jaskier | Dandelion, Wet & Messy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:35:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23084866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thespianok/pseuds/thespianok
Summary: “Hmm, I know a way we could warm up.” Jaskier slipped his hands underneath Geralt’s shirt and rested them on his chest, fingers brushing his nipples. Geralt hissed, both at the terrible line and the chill of Jaskier’s fingers against his sensitive chest.Or, it's cold outside so Geralt and Jaskier warm each other up.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: all things by a law divine [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1659148
Comments: 22
Kudos: 310
Collections: Good Relationship Etiquette (familial included) - or Good BDSM Etiquette - or Good Relationship and BDSM Etiquette





	he will sing to those who'll hear

“ _Geralt,_ I can’t feel my fingers.”

An early winter storm blew through the forest they were currently inhabiting, taking both of them by surprise, forcing them to find shelter by a nearby cliff face, amongst the jagged rocks. Geralt set up their tent without delay, but the thin fabric did little to keep out the icy cold of the wind. They had set off from the last little village to head to Kaer Morhen for the winter, and Geralt knew they should’ve set off earlier, but the bard had _thoroughly_ distracted him with an outfit that he had specially made, and they ended up staying at the inn for two days longer than they should have.

And now Geralt was paying for it in the form of Jaskier’s non-stop complaining.

“Melitele, it’s so cold.”

It’s true; his breath was fogging the air. 

“Stop complaining,” Geralt grunted, but he still pulled the bard closer to him, then tugged the furs up so they almost covered their heads. Jaskier whined, then tucked his head into Geralt’s neck, and the Witcher sighed, a sweet little noise that usually only came out when Jaskier did something that he really liked. Jaskier hummed in acknowledgement, then placed a kiss to his pulse point, then lightly nipped his skin. Geralt moaned, small and faint, barely there.

“Hmm, I know a way we could warm up.” Jaskier slipped his hands underneath Geralt’s shirt and rested them on his chest, fingers brushing his nipples. Geralt hissed, both at the terrible line and the chill of Jaskier’s fingers against his sensitive chest.

Jaskier’s head rose from where it had been tucked against his neck. “No?”

“Yes,” Geralt answered, eyes slightly blown.

Jaskier smiled at him, then he pushed Geralt over onto his back, dragging the furs up over their heads, then settled himself between Geralt’s legs.

He leaned down slowly, hovering just above Geralt’s lips, and Geralt knew that he could simply rise up and meet him, kiss his breath away, but they’ve been doing this for long enough that Geralt knows just what his bard wants. He can’t meet Jaskier’s eyes, but he still mumbles a quiet, “Please.”

Jaskier immediately rewarded him by capturing his lips in a kiss, a kiss that built so quickly that it left Geralt a little dizzy, a little off-kilter. The kiss didn’t last nearly long enough, in Geralt’s opinion, but the, _“good boy,”_ that fell from Jaskier’s lips as he drew back made up for it.

The bard pecked is lips one final time before moving down his neck, nose still icy but warming up quickly. Jaskier placed sweet little kisses down his neck, paying attention to all of the places that made Geralt squirm.

 _“Darling,_ you’re lovely, so sweet,” Jaskier pressed his praise into Geralt’s skin as if he could force it to stay written there. 

Jaskier brought tugged Geralt’s shirt up and over his shoulders, discarding it amongst their furs. He brought his mouth down to Geralt’s nipples, sucking them into his mouth one by one, his hands moving up to frame Geralt’s neck, to squeeze it lightly, and Geralt had to bring his hands up to thread through Jaskier’s hair to keep him in place, to give himself some semblance of control.

Jaskier broke his mouth away from Geralt’s chest. “Your _tits,_ Geralt, you love when I play with them, don’t you, darling?”

Geralt, face flushed, eyes closed, could only nod in response.

Jaskier slipped one hand down to cup Geralt’s bulge, then squeezed it gently.

Geralt moaned, arching into Jaskier’s grasp, begging for more friction. Jaskier took his hand away, and Geralt whined, high and drawn out and nothing at all like his usual gruff cadence. He felt his face flush further, but his cock twitched anyways.

“Very good.”

Jaskier leaned back down to capture his lips once again, and the kiss was messy and desperate. Then Jaskier grasped Geralt’s hips and thrust against him, brought Geralt’s body to brush against his again and again, building up an unrelenting rhythm that Geralt had no control over. Geralt had no idea how long they thrusted against each other, but as soon as his hips began to stutter, lose their rhythm, as soon as it started to become too much, Jaskier pulled his hips away, too far for Geralt to get any friction.

Geralt _whined._

“What do you want? Look at me, darling. Tell me.”

Geralt opened his eyes and met Jaskier’s gaze, and was blown away (as he is every single time) at the love in Jaskier’s eyes, the want, the longing. Jaskier dropped his gaze to Geralt’s lips, and his eyes were dark with lust, and Geralt couldn’t help the small noise, the needy noise, from escaping his throat. “Fuck me.”

“Yeah, you want me to fuck you, honey?” Jaskier murmurs, voice not unkind, but it filled Geralt with heat and humiliation.

“Yes,” he whispered, voice more of a faint sound than anything else.

Jaskier smirked, his own pleasure building because of Geralt’s need, because of their cock’s thrusting together, because of the flush on Geralt’s chest, on his cheeks. Because of his trust in Jaskier, his trust that Jaskier will take care of him, will give him what he needs.

“I’m not going to fuck you, Geralt,” Jaskier said, hushing Geralt’s resulting whine. “We don’t have the oil, darling, it’s outside in Roach’s saddlebag, and I don’t much fancy going back out there right now.”

Right, Geralt had forgotten all about the storm, his full focus on the heat of Jaskier against him, on the press of Jaskier’ s fingers on his skin, the smell of their combined lust, the sound of Jaskier’s voice saying all kinds of sweet things to him, _about_ him. He wasn’t cold anymore.

Jaskier drew all thoughts from his mind, allowed him to simply exist without any worry other than when he’d next be able to get Jaskier’s cock inside of him.

“I know you need your pretty little _cunt_ filled, darling, I’d give it to you if I could,” Jaskier said, still holding Geralt’s gaze. At his words, Geralt’s eyes fluttered closed and opened slightly wetter than they had previously been, and the shine in them made Jaskier weak, weak for Geralt's sweet vulnerability. Geralt knew that Jaskier got off on the fact that Geralt didn’t show this side of himself to anyone else, this side of him that loved to be praised, that loved to be embarrassed.

“Jas _kier,”_ Geralt moaned, as the bard brought his hand down once again to cup Geralt’s dick. The fingers of his other hand roughly pinched one of his nipples, and his back arched into the sensation, chest pushing further into Jaskier’s hand. 

_“Beautiful,”_ Jaskier breathed.

He quickly unfastened Geralt’s pants, pushing them down his thighs, before taking Geralt’s cock in hand, brushing his thumb over the head and collecting the moisture that had gathered there. He brought his thumb up to Geralt’s mouth, loving that Geralt allowed it to be pushed between his lips with no resistance at all. Geralt eagerly wrapped his lips around the thumb, sucking off his own seed.

Jaskier hummed in praise, taking his thumb out of Geralt mouth and sliding it across his bottom lip, admiring the flush of his skin. He took in the sight for only a few moments, soon returning to Geralt’s cock, sliding down his body to take the head into his mouth.

“Hmm, I can’t fuck your pretty pussy, but I can play with your clit, would you like that, darling?”

Predictably, Geralt jolted at the words, and he knew that Jaskier knew exactly what he was doing. He nodded anyway.

Geralt moaned as Jaskier swallowed him down, and it didn’t take long for Jaskier to work him up to that peak, didn’t take long until he was balancing on that precipice. But Geralt couldn’t come, not yet, because Jaskier hadn’t told him that he could.

His hands _scrabbled_ against Jaskier’s shoulders, trying to hold on, trying to cling to him. He gazed down at Jaskier’s head between his legs, his mouth sucking on his sensitive clit, and saw Jaskier’s hand working quickly between his own legs. That, knowing the effect he had on Jaskier, almost sent him over the edge. But he knew that Jaskier wouldn’t let him come until he asked for it.

 _“Jaskier,”_ he moaned, couldn’t help himself, and even in his own mind it sounded like a plea, desperate, needy. _“Please,_ Jask.”

Jaskier slowly lifted his head from Geralt’s cock, sucking _hard_ on the head for a moment before letting it fall from his mouth. His lips were flushed a bright pink and made him look _obscene,_ skin flushed and eyes bright, grin on his face. “What do you want, beautiful?”

His voice was _ruined_ from Geralt’s cock, fuck Geralt loved it. He needed to come so badly that it _hurt._ “Please, Jaskier, let me _come.”_

“Hmm, so _polite,_ aren’t you? You can come when you want to, darling.” And with that, he took Geralt’s dick back into his mouth and sent Geralt careening straight off that edge. Geralt came, and came, and _came,_ and Jaskier didn’t stop sucking the life out of him until he whined from the overstimulation.

Jaskier took his mouth off of Geralt’s cock with a _pop,_ rising up on his knees to kiss Geralt, still fucking into his own hand. Geralt kissed the taste of his own seed from Jaskier’s mouth and moaned into the kiss. Breaking away, Geralt whined, “Come on me, _please,_ Jask.”

It took only moments for Jaskier to come after that, spilling warm and wet across Geralt’s belly, moaning loud and unashamed at his release. He panted into Geralt’s neck as they both came down, before leaning back and putting his hand to the sticky mess on Geralt’s stomach, rubbing it into his flesh. Geralt moaned at the obvious marking, feeling thoroughly owned and cared for as Jaskier dragged his hand through his own spend, spreading it up Geralt’s chest and to his neck, pausing every now and then to suck some of it off of his skin.

Making his way up Geralt’s body, he kissed him as soon as his lips were in reach.

“You’re welcome,” Jaskier grinned, as cocky as always.

Geralt couldn’t help but smile back.

Neither of them were cold anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> A little bit delectable, if I do say so myself. Idk you can pry Bottom!Geralt from my cold dead hands is all I'm saying. Follow me on tumblr at thespianok for more Witcher content!


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